Brothers Fight
by QuierdoMusic
Summary: Some kind of an epilogue to Tall Tales, but mostly a ‘argument-prank’ flashback, with Dean 16 and Sam 12… The BROTHERS have a big fight. Brotherly love like always and with a caring John... A little bit angst... READ AND REVIEW, Please!


_**Brother Fight**_

_**Some kind of an epilogue **__**to Tall Tales, but mostly a 'prank-' flashback, with Dean 16 and Sam 12… The brothers have had a big fight. Brotherly love like always and with a caring John.**_

_**THANKS SOOO MUCH TO ALL; WHO READ AND REVIEW MY STORIES. I ADORE YOU!**_

_**Yeah… I own nothing…. =( But I want Dean... well as a big brother =P**_

"Yeah, like you did all the work." Sam laughed at his big brother. He and Dean were sitting in the Impala, sipping on their beer bottles, talking about the recent events with the trickster, taking a break from driving at a small hill, where they could watch the stars. "You weren't confronted with this big, fat, made up murderer. You just had to deal with these chicks."

"These chicks weren't real chicks." Dean defended himself. "By the way, before I forget it, here is your money." The elder man handed the younger the bundle of money, with an affectionately smile, when Sam began to grin.

"Thanks man…" Sam started, but was interrupted by a movement of his big brother.

"I don't need the money, it's enough for me, that I have won our prank war." Dean took another sip from his beer.

"You didn't win." Sam protested. "It wasn't a real fight, so nobody won."

"What does it matter?" Dean faced his brother again, laughing. "I always won… _so_ it's just one more succeed to me."

"You weren't always the winner. I won, too." The younger boy looked at his older brother with the same puppy dog's eyes, like always.

"You didn't." Dean chuckled at Sammy's glance.

"I did." Sam stated. "Don't you remember the one, when we were at Bobby's? I was twelve, nearly thirteen and you were still sixteen."

"You didn't win this one." Dean laughed again. "You were kind of begging to me for not hating you anymore."

"I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean murmured, when he saw the wounded look of his little brother's face.

"No… it's okay… it's just still a sore spot." Sam confessed. The only fight which was worse than the one over eleven years ago was the fight about Stanford. The two words _'Hate' _and_ 'Dean' _just didn't get along with each other.

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_**11 years ago**_

"No! Daaad! I'm almost seventeen. There is no way I'm sharing a bed with Sam again. It's bad enough that I have to share a _room_ with him." Dean whined from the back seat of the Impala, glaring at his father, who sat behind the wheel. Sam sat beside his brother, angry tears in his eyes. He hated to fight with Dean, but he hated even more when he did _this_, talking about Sam, like wasn't there. "Can't we just leave him here, in the middle of nowhere?"

"Dean… you are driving me nuts right now. You two _have_ to stop fighting like that at Bobby's. I can't help it that you two don't get along, but there is no need to annoy everybody else" John hit the wheel, silencing his older son immediately. Usually his sons didn't fight, but one week ago, Sam had played an unfunny prank to Dean. Little Sammy had told Dean's girlfriend that Dean dated another girl, too. It wasn't true, but the three Winchesters left before Dean could make up with the girl.

It was the first time in their lives that Dean didn't talked to Sam anymore. Though John didn't want to interfere between his boys, he could help but feel sorry for his younger son. He suffered, but it wasn't his business.

"Hey, Sammy… you okay?" John asked, seeing the tears, Sam tried to hide.

"Yeah" Sam nodded, brushing his eyes. Dean glanced over to his brother, biting his lip. _This time, he wouldn't give in. Not this time._

"Fine" John hissed, hating the tenseness between his boys.

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"Hey boys" Bobby greeted the boys, wrapping his arms around Dean at first for a brief hug.

"Hey Bobby" Dean smiled, patting the older man's shoulder.

"Sammy, how are you?" Bobby embraced the smaller boy. John's heart broke when he saw, that Sam hugged Bobby tightly, like it was the only comfort he was able to get in these days; Sam was someone, who still needed some kind of closeness and though it was kind of wrong, not John, but Dean was the one who always offered him this said closeness.

It wasn't rare that John found his two boys in front of the TV, snuggled together. The past week they didn't even talk.

"Earth to John" Bobby winked in front of the father's face.

"Thanks that we can stay at yours." John hugged the other man hello.

"Dean" John talked to his elder son, who shouldered his bag. "You know, where your room is Bring your stuff there, than go to bed, it's late."

"Yes dad." Dean obeyed, turning around, without asking Sam, whether he could help him with the other bag. Sam looked a little lost, when he shouldered it.

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"Hey John, do you want a beer?" Bobby asked his friend, feeling the bad mood.

"Don't you have something else… something _harder_?" John asked, sitting down on the table, letting his face fall into his hands.

"Is it really so bad?" Bobby joked.

"Well… Let me say it like this… it's the _first_ time in my life that I have to care for a kid all by myself. I didn't really get how much Dean is helping with Sam, only with being there." John confessed, taking a sip from the liquid in front of him.

"It's unbelievable how much Dean is grown up with his sweet sixteen years." Bobby stated. "Though Sam acts older than twelve, too. What happened, by the way?"

"One week ago Sam pulled a stupid prank at Dean." John explained.

"What did he do?"

"He told Dean's girlfriend that Dean would date another girl parallel to her. Immediately nobody was talking to Dean anymore, because this girl was pretty famous at her school, he was the one who would leave in one week."

"That's bad." John commented. "Don't you think Dean had earned a little time off?"

"Yeah, but Sam is so utterly sensitive about his brother." John complained.

"So is Dean, he loves his brother, but he is mad for some time. Don't think it's bad that they are so sensitive about each other, though. Everybody has a weakness and for you Winchesters it's the family." Bobby smiled at John. "And well… Sam's afraid that he might lose Dean, but the boys are smart, they will figure that out."

"I just wish that they just go along again. The last week was hard for Sam."

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"You'll sleep at the wall." Dean ordered, pointing at the bed.

When Dean didn't looked at Sam, the twelve year old boy felt that he was tearing up again, climbing on the bed. He had said sorry and he didn't understand why Dean was still mad. Sam knew it was stupid, but he couldn't change it back.

Dean turned on the little TV, settling down on his brother's side, exactly knowing how he could hurt him the most. He turned his back to Sam, facing the TV, covering himself with the blanket. Usually he would hand Sam one blanket first.

_Clowns__; this was a horror movie with clowns_. Dean smiled evilly. He loved his luck right now, when he felt Sam tense behind him.

"Dean, _please_. Turn it off." Sam begged, trying not to look at the TV.

Dean ignored his brother.

"Dean… I… I… know that you are angry… but _please_" Sam whispered.

"I want to see it. Shut up." _And make your night to a living hell_. Dean knew exactly that this Clowns-movie would scare the crap out of his brother.

Dean flinched, when he felt Sam curl up behind him, a fist on Dean's back, sobbing.

Though Dean didn't turn around to give his brother some reassurance, he hadn't the heart to pull away or to swat the hand of the twelve year old boy away.

Some minutes later, after he had turned off the TV, Dean heard that Sam had fallen asleep, his cold nose buried in Dean's back. Signing, Dean took the blanket over his brother's body, hugging him briefly, when Sam began to shiver.

"We'll talk tomorrow. I'm sorry… you know… for the movie." Dean whispered to his sleeping brother, kissing Sam's forehead, before turning around again to fall asleep. Dean just couldn't stay mad at Sam, when his little brother acted so helpless.

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_Dean_. Sam woke up with a start.

He looked down at the sleeping frame of his big brother. He hated nightmares, especially them in which Dean wasn't there to keep him safe. When he had this kind of dream he would just tell Dean about it and would be able to calm down in his brother's arms.

Now his brother refused to talk to him. Perhaps he _hated _him.

With a desperate sign Sam stepped out of bed, heading for the hall. The house was so big; it was a long way to the living room.

"Sammy" John, who did a little research, greeted his son, when he saw him. Sam approached his father, sitting beside him in silence. "You are supposed to sleep."

"Hey boy" John whispered, cupping Sam's cheek into his hand, making him look up. Sammy looked like he had cried the whole night, leaning into his father's touch. "Come here." John put the book, he had read beside and than his arm around Sam, letting the boy lean against him.

"I… I… hate this… dad." Sam sobbed into his father's chest, trembling like mad.

"Did you have a nightmare?" John asked nicely, caressing his son's hair, when the boy nodded.

"What was it about?" John asked.

"Don't know." Sammy lied at his father, eyes closed. He couldn't tell him that his nightmare has been about clowns and a vanished Dean. John would be unbelievable mad at Dean for doing this to Sam and he didn't want to get Dean into trouble.

"Shouldn't I talk to Dean? You don't look very happy right now." John brushed his nose against the top of Sam's head. Though it hurt him, he knew that Sam needed his brother in moments like this, not his father.

"Not?" John asked taken aback, when Sam shook his head, sobbing.

"He… I mean… Dean has every right… to be mad at me…" Sam swallowed. "I screwed up…"

"Do you want to sleep here tonight?" John asked, not even waiting for an answer, before he gripped the blanket, tucking his son in; still hugging him tight.

"Thanks dad" Sam hugged his father back.

Some minutes later, Sam was asleep against his father's side, while John looked TV, the tone low, so Sam's sleep wouldn't be disturbed.

"Thank god" John heard a thankful moan from the door. Dean had appeared in the doorframe, eyes shut.

"Are you okay, Dean?" John asked worried, making his way to the pale boy, who was leaning against the wall, gripping both of his son's shoulders. Sam just continued sleeping on the couch.

"No" Dean shook his head, taking deep breathes, when he talked again his voice trembled. "I… ugh… When I woke up, Sam wasn't there anymore." Dean felt sick; he never has been so scared in his life. "I… thought he had _really_ vanished…because of me."

John smiled when his elder son laid his forehead against his shoulder, trying to calm down. "I couldn't help but think that my last words to him were _shut up_." Dean whispered.

"Your brother is okay." John assured Dean, while rubbing his back. "Do you want to go to sleep, again?"

Dean looked up frowning, like John had lost his mind.

"Okay, okay, big brother…" John laughed; Dean was again in his _big-brother-mode_. "I'll go and take a walk." He kissed Dean's hair lightly, before leaving.

Dean took again a deep breath, before he sat down beside his brother, running his finger over Sam's back, along the spin. Sam shuddered at the touch, but in a good way. "Hey little brother, wake up." Dean ordered kindly, a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"D-Dean" Sam blinked surprised, facing the other boy.

"You know how to scare the crap out of me." Dean murmured, running a hand through Sam's long hair.

"Humpf" Sam swallowed, not wanting to show that he was nearly crying again. _What was up?_ Had his dad really talked with Dean?

"That was very eloquent, Sammy." Dean chuckled, pulling Sam in a sitting position, nearly on his lap.

"I don't understand… you are mad at me." Sam whispered into Dean's shoulder, not pulling back.

"Well… yeah… but I was scared, when you weren't in bed anymore. You are only twelve and you have no chance to fight danger and dad wouldn't be found when you are gone." _Neither would I, little brother._

Sam tightened his grip around his brother's neck. "We're okay, again?"

"You got it, Sammy." Dean shifted to be more comfortable on the couch, not letting go of Sam. "We're brothers… we _have_ to get along." He teased, hugging Sam tighter.

"Thanks Dean" Sam yawned, his world okay again.

Dean smiled affectionately when the boy kissed his cheek.

Sam cuddled up to his older brother's chest. He looked like a toddler again, when he fell asleep at Dean's chest. Dean shook his head, not believing that he had fought with Sammy for one week, because of a stupid girl.

When John arrived some minutes later he grinned at the sight of his boys, snuggled together. Sammy was smiling in his sleep, clinging to Dean, while the older boy half-sat-half-laid there, his face buried in Sam's long hair.

Glad that his boys got along again, John tucked a planked around them, making them more comfortable.

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_**Present Time**_

"I bet I've had the most uncomfortable night _ever_. I was _sore_ in the morning." Dean laughed.

Sam smiled at his brother. Sam himself hadn't slept the week before, but in this night he had again slept like a baby.

"So you _really_ would have forgiven me anyway?" Sam asked, waiting for his brother to face him. "I mean… you really insisted to talk with me in the morning, when I slept already?"

"Well…" Dean shrugged. "I would have stayed mad, if you haven't sobbed like a baby." _I've never could stand to see you cry._

"Yeah… I was simply too adorable." Sam chuckled. "And I've won the fight. You didn't prank me back there."

"I did."

"You didn't."

"Clowns" Dean titled his head, when Sam flinched.

"This wasn't a prank… this was your mean way to punish me." Sam looked out of the window.

Dean, who saw the sad look on his brother's face, laid his hand around Sam's, squeezing it tight. "We've been through a lot, little brother."

"You can say that again, Dean." Sam squeezed the hand back. "But it's worth."

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